


Briste

by writtenthroughtime



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-08-18 08:34:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8155850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenthroughtime/pseuds/writtenthroughtime
Summary: Modern AU where Claire believes she is unlovable and will never find love. However, life doesn't always turn out the way she believes it will...





	1. Chapter 1 | Heartache

I was lost in my thoughts as I walked down the busy streets. My mind wandered back to the recurring dream that had plagued me every night this week. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. To have a love that I so desperately craved ripped away from me in a flash, to not know, to never truly feel what you desire most, it’s unbearable. 

A man, his hair short and dirty blonde, warm, light brown smiling eyes, and a tall, lean physique was the center of these delusions. If I closed my eyes, I could feel the warmth of his chest and the steady beat of his heart under my cheek. I could feel the ghost his arm tightening around my waist, squeezing my hip gently. 

I snapped my eyes open and shook my head. It’s not real. None of it was real. The sting of tears pricked my eyes as my heart broke with every step I took. The dream was just that, a dream. Reality had proven love wasn’t what’s in store for me. Who would want me? I’m not beautiful; I may be on the thinner side, but my hips were large along with my chest, my brown hair a mess that even the toughest of hairsprays and bobby pins couldn't contain. I’m one that easily gets lost in the crowd. 

Hastily, I wiped the stray tear from my cheek, and power walked up the daunting hill. The couple in front of me held hands, you could see a bounce in both of their steps as they walked. My heart ached more; I want that. I want someone to look at me with love in their eyes, to see me as the most beautiful person they’ve ever met! Yet, I can’t bring myself to trust anyone. 

I was broken up with the day I graduated university, and I remember it like it was yesterday. We had been dating for the last two years of my undergraduate degree, we went on adventures and I thought, we were both happy, until graduation. He drove me to the ceremony, cheered when my name was called, then as we were leaving he told me he didn’t want to see me anymore. Right there, in the car park of the university’s football pitch, he ended it. All of the excitement from the day sucked out of me like a vacuum. He didn’t even give me a ride to the restaurant where my uncle was waiting. 

Ever since I had been skeptical and hesitant to open myself up to a blindside of the heart. The next unfortunate relationship didn’t last nearly as long; it lasted only eight months. I called him one day to see if he wanted to grab lunch, a woman answered his mobile as his fiancee. I ended what little of the relationship there was before I hung up the phone. 

Multiple blind dates, casual flings, and the random alcohol-induced bar related hook-up are what my life has become. At twenty-seven, I no longer believed love would happen.


	2. Chapter 2 | Assignments

Everyday I took the same route to the hospital, and everyday I watched the world around me fill with love. A small smile appeared to be permanent. I saw the love of families, couples and friends and my heart filled with joy while also clenching with the pain of want. 

Would I ever find that? 

There were times when the ache of love consumed my every moment, especially at work. How could it not, when I’m surrounded by the joys, heartache, and anxieties of true love on a daily basis? The hospital is one place I simultaneously feel at home and yet more alone than ever before. 

“Doctor Beauchamp!” A nurse calls, breaking me from my latest reverie of heartache. “Doctor Abernathy is asking for you.” Her lilt was a soft Scots and her hair the color of gold. She would definitely be one that men would throw themselves after.

“Thank you, Nurse. Which bay?” I hoped my voice conveyed professionalism and gratitude, and not the bitter jealousy and scrutiny that burned through my veins. 

She smiled. “Surgical Room 511. He’s got a rather... unique case he wishes you to co-run with him from my understanding. If ye’ll be needin anything, please page me. I’m familiar with Doctor Abernathy’s cases.” 

I nodded and before I could ask her name she walked away. She hesitated and over her shoulder called out, “My name is Nurse MacKenzie. There are several of us though, so if you call for Nurse Laoghaire, they’ll know who to get.”

I nodded, then realized she couldn’t see me. “Thank you, Nurse MacKenzie!” I yelled after her and quickly made my way to room 511. 

Joe—Doctor Abernathy—stood outside the closed door of the room, conversing with two other nurses. 

“Make sure that he has a constant watch. I don’t want to see his vitals drop!” he said, menacingly. I cleared my throat and Joe looked up. “Ah! Doctor Beauchamp. Have you been informed on the case?”

I shook my head. “Nurse MacKenzie said it was a unique case and that you would inform me.” 

Joe huffed, throwing his head back. “Of course she didn’t. She knows the patient, and has quite the infatuation with him. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was trying to get the case to herself.” He looked to the two nurses, “That’s why I had Nurse Fitz and Nurse Duncan here come down. I need someone not so close to the man.” 

I turned to the nurses in question. One was a short, aging, plump woman the other, an intimidating man who looked more like he belonged in the rehabilitation department than nursing. They both nodded at me; I gave them a small smile in return. 

“I have to warn you, Claire, this case isn’t like any you’ve had before. The young man in there he,” Joe broke off, seeming to decide on how to proceed. “He’s not your average case. His situation is not completely unique, but for this hospital it will be.”

“I’m sure I can handle whatever the situation calls for, Doctor Abernathy. What is wrong?” My mind began to spin with possibilities. Surgeries and diagnosis’ that I had only read about had me eager to learn more. 

“He was medevaced from the war. He has suffered multiple deep lacerations on his back, skull and right hand.”

My eyes widened. “A soldier, here? But why…?”

“We were the only hospital with enough vacancies and skill for what this young man needs. His tags have gone missing, so we do not know his name. We do know he is a Scot and a member of the Black Watch from his uniform, but that’s all. He was brought in unconscious and he’s remained that way. We are keeping him sedated until all of the surgeries can be completed. He’s already gone through two to remove the shrapnel from his back. Tomorrow, we will be repairing his hand, and that is where you will come in. I need this hospital’s most meticulous surgeon for the job.”

Joe’s eyes twinkled as he delivered the compliment; my cheeks burned. 

“Is this my time for consultation then?” I inquired, arching an eyebrow while smirking at him.

Joe laughed, “Yes. This is your time to go see what all needs to be done for his surgery tomorrow. The x-ray scans are in there as well.”


	3. Chapter 3 | Scottish Soldier

My first thought when my eyes landed on my patient was nothing. My mind went blank. Everything I thought I knew had vanished. It wasn’t from the state of his bandage wrapped back, or the loosely wrapped arm I was there to inspect, it was just him in general. My body knew something my mind refused to compute. 

My heart was racing and I could feel my palms become clammy. He had red hair—at least what was left of it was red—and saying red was a disservice to the color. It was a beautiful mix of ginger, gold, auburn, and cinnamon that even the fluorescent lights couldn’t wash out. His face was angled to the side, to reveal a long straight nose, and chiseled jaw line that had a peppering of red stubble. 

“Doctor Beauchamp?” I jumped at Joe’s voice, clutching a hand to my heart feeling it race even more, only out of fear instead of lust. 

I shook my head to clear it and stepped towards the man. At closer inspection, my heart pounded a deafening beat in my ears as I took in the subtle nuances of his handsome face. I had to force myself to look down to examine the hand. 

Three broken fingers were mottled with blue and purple bruising, a bone protruded from the skin of his ring finger, and there was a hole that went right through the middle of his hand--the bones beneath shattered. The surgery would be intense and long. I sighed looking back at Joe.

“He’s not in for an easy surgery or recovery,” I said to him.

“No, he’s not. The easiest one we had was the injury to his skull. Chipped bone from a blunt object.” He shrugged. “We’re guessing it was a piece from a car or tank but that’s only a hunch. All we had to do to help that injury was sew the skin back together. Not much we can do about the chipped bone.” 

I nodded and turned back to the man. His injured hand was rough and calloused along the sides, but not in a dominant sort of way. Left handed. I sighed in relief; that’s one less hardship he’ll have to go through, learning to write and depend on his non-dominant hand won’t be an issue. “He’s left handed.”

“How the Devil would you know a thing like that?” Doctor Abernathy asked.

I pointed down to his hand. “The calluses. He’s a hard worker from the look of them, but the tell tale indentations of a right-handed person on the fingers is not there. This hand is also not as large or developed as the left,” I said as I gestured to his left hand. 

Joe chuckled and slapped my shoulder. “Look at you Lady Jane! Not one person that has helped treat this man has figured that much out! Perhaps that’ll help us track down his identity in the service. Can’t be that many Black Watch, left-handed, red-headed Scots could there?”

I laughed with him, knowing how much a needle in the haystack this man’s identity still was, but happy to have a distraction. 

“I’ll get out of you hair so you can plan your surgery for tomorrow!” With that, he left the room and the two nurses as well. 

“Who are you?” I whispered to his sleeping face, and lightly touched his brow. A small flicker of movement caught my eye, as the corner of his mouth rose in a slight curve.


	4. Chapter 4 | Complication

It had been a week since the successful hand surgery. I couldn’t leave him alone. Everyday, I would go straight to his room, pretend to check his hand and just talk to him.

He still hadn’t woken. 

The medications had been gradually decreased, to the point that now he no longer was in a medically induced coma for the surgeries and recovery. It was up to him now to wake up for us. 

I desperately wanted to know the color of his eyes and the sound of his voice. I ached to know just as much as I ached to be loved. When I was next to him I felt calm, content, and not as depressed. Maybe it was knowing others had it worse than I did, or it was his very presence bringing me calm, I didn't know. What I did know, was that this young man had become the center of my world. 

After lunch I was checking the stitches on my Scot’s hand, when the door closed and a feminine cough broke through my concentration. I turned to face her. She was petite with long black hair and piercing blue eyes. 

My heart dropped to my stomach. This had to be his wife. The beautiful nameless man was no longer available for my fantasies. Why should he be? He was a patient first and foremost, but seeing this beautiful—pregnant—woman who clearly loves him more than life itself made me wish I had never set foot in the room. I had never seen the man’s eyes or heard his voice, but I knew I was attracted to him, more than I should have been. He didn’t wear a ring, but she did. A beautiful sapphire engagement solitaire accompanied the simple gold band on her left hand. 

I could feel the tears prick at the back of my eyes. Oh God! I knew the feelings I’d felt since the day I met him were too good to be true, that my body only reacted on a chemical level, and not some fantasy of fate and soul mate knowing.

“Hello,” I said approaching the woman. “Can I be of any assistance to you?” 

She smiled at me, but it didn’t reach or soften the glare in her eyes. “Are ye his doctor?” The thick Scottish brogue was not what I had been expecting from her.

Temporarily shocked, it took me a beat too long to nod my head. “Are ye sure? He doesna need someone who can’t even think or talk clearly looking after him! I’ll be sure to have you fired from the case if ye’ve done a single thing to impede his healing.”

Her hands were in fists at her hips as she stared me down. 

“I am one of his doctors. I’m Doctor Beauchamp. I am the surgeon who repaired his hand. He has two different doctors treating him for his other injuries.” I motioned to the hand I just been examining. “Do you know him?”

She scoffed in a distinctly Scottish tone. “Oh aye! Of course I know him!” She rested a hand on her protruding belly; my heart clenched. Of course she knew him and this subtle move was all the confirmation I needed. He was the father of her child and her husband.


	5. Chapter 5 | A Named Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For reaching an incredible follower count on Tumblr, I held a poll a mini-drabble series for the day or a double post of Briste this week. Briste won, so please enjoy chapter 5 two days early and look for chapter 6 on Wednesday!

“He’s my brother!” The short, dark haired, fiery-eyed woman exclaimed.

“Yo-your brother?” I croaked, feeling a heavy weight lift from my chest. 

“Aye! I was called two days ago to say that my brother had been found and was no longer missing in action. Drove all day yesterday and came here as soon as I could to find him. No one here seems to know his name.” She looked to be near tears. 

I shook my head, “We didn’t know it, still don’t know it for documentation purposes. We submitted our findings on him-”

“Findings! You make him sounds like some sort of experiment!” The woman yelled. 

“Oh, no, please I didn’t mean it in that way at all. Findings as in, that he was left handed, and had red hair, his blood type, and a cast of his teeth for dental record comparison. I--We have been desperate to find his identity and family.” I held my hands out in a calming gesture, hoping she would calm down. 

Just as fast as the woman’s anger arrived, it disappeared in a sigh. “He’s all the family I have left other than my husband and this wean. I thought we’d lost him for good this time.” 

I pulled out my Scot’s chart and grabbed a pen. “Could you tell me his name? I’d like to address him properly when he wakes up and get your information in as next of kin and medical information. He’s no longer our unknown soldier.” I smiled slightly.

“His name is James Fraser, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, if you’re looking for his insurance and medical history.”

I nodded and quickly wrote his name. James. My stomach fluttered at the knowledge. 

“To his family and friends,” she continued, “He’s just Jamie.” 

She looked down to her brother and smoothed back his hair. “I was so afraid of being alone. Dinna scare me like that again,” she whispered to him. 

Turning back to me, she stuck out a hand. “Thank you for helping my brother Doctor Beauchamp. My name is Jenny Murray and I can’t thank you enough for keeping him alive.” 

I smiled and turned to my Sc—Jamie. “It’s been an honor.” Gently, I touched his hand again and placed the brace back around it. 

Jenny started and let out a whoop of excitement. 

“Brother! Oh God, Jamie!” she cried and laughed, throwing herself at his neck.

I looked up to see big, blue eyes blearily staring around the room, Jamie had woken up.


	6. Chapter 6 | Overwhelmed

_His eyes were blue..._

 It was the first thought that crossed my mind. My heart stuttered and my breathing came short just at the sight. He was different than any man I had ever fantasized about, dated, or looked at amorously.

 Jamie gaze darted around, a look of confusion marring his beautiful face. God! Get a grip Beauchamp! He’s your patient! I berated myself. I took a step backward towards the door, my hand groping for the handle.

“I’ll let the two of you catch up,” I said shakily, my sweaty palms slipping off the handle.

 “Are you no’ his doctor, Doctor Beauchamp?” Jenny said, squaring her shoulders and setting a glare on me.

 “I-I-”

 “And would you no’ want to look at him and see if anything were wrong before flouncing out that door?” Her face stern, gradually turning red in her anger. A vein just above her left eyebrow began to show as she glared harder at me.

 “I am his doctor, but not the one for neurology. As I was explaining before, I repaired his hand. I can do a quick examination, but it would be best if I were to go get Doctor Abernathy who has been monitoring his brain scans. He can--”

 “I can hear the two of you just fine, so if you could please include me in this conversation instead of treating me like I’m no’ here, I’d appreciate it,” a scratchy, low, and surprisingly deep voice grumbled from the bed. At the sound, both Jenny and I turned to face him. A small smile creased the corners of his lips.

 “Aye, I see I have your attention now. Could one of ye please tell me what is going on.” He looked so desperate, confused, and--oh God, dare I think it--sexy.

 I squeezed my eyes shut and took a soothing breath.

 “You were hurt during the war and brought here for treatment. Your back, hand and head had serious injuries that we were able to help repair, although, and I am truly sorry about it, your ring finger may never bend again. I did the best that I could under the circumstances. We didn’t know if you were allergic to anything and--”

 “Doctor!” Jenny stopped me. “You’re rambling.”

 My cheeks turned bright red. “Sorry. We weren’t sure what materials you might have been allergic to so we tried the best we could to rebuild without the aid of foreign substance. If you aren’t allergic to anything and wish for me to do the surgery again, we can see if it can be done. However, I don’t recommend it.”

 He looked over to where his hand lay and frowned at the gauze and brace wrapped appendage.

 “The bones seem to be stitching back together well, the skin on your middle finger healing well also. Your bone had pierced the skin. I--we were worried that you may have gotten a blood infection from it or the shrapnel wounds on your back.”

 Just before he closed his eyes, I saw a flicker of pain cross them.

 I cleared my throat from the onslaught of emotions that threatened to seep out. “I’m going to go get your other physicians, Doctor’s Abernathy and Hunter. They’ll be able to tell you more information.”

 Jamie didn’t speak. His brow was furrowed and his lips pursed in thought.

 “Thank you, Doctor Beauchamp.” It was Jenny who spoke up, her voice tender and reverent. “Thank you for looking after my brother when his family couldn’t.”

 “You’re welcome.” I nodded and smiled softly. I thought I may have just made an a friend or at the very least, an ally. “I’ll leave the two of you alone to catch up while I’ll get the other doctors.”

 When I was in the hallway, my breath whooshed out of me as though I had been punched in the gut. My Scot’s eyes and voice--and the intelligence behind them--was something out of a dream. My entire body felt like it was a livewire, that if I were to touch him, I may electrocute him or myself.


	7. Chapter 7 | A Girl Scorned

A flash of blonde hair and pink scrubs caught the corner of my eye. Nurse MacKenzie. I thought back to my original meeting with Joe and how he said the young nurse knew our soldier and was infatuated with him, yet I didn’t know his name until his sister barged through the door! Why would we have spent the time, money, and hours searching for this man’s identity if Nurse MacKenzie knew him?

I jogged after the nurse, my blood boiling.

“Nurse MacKenzie!” I said, briskly. I felt a myself glare in her direction. She swirled around, the pink scrubs she had on covered from neck to crotch in bodily fluid.

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry Doctor Beauchamp, I’m a wee bit busy at the moment if ye canna see,” she said, pointing to the still wet scrubs. “I have to change before going up to the NICU.”

She began to turn around when I angrily exclaimed. “You knew his name!” She whirled around, her look of exasperation changing to a smirk.

“I dinna take your meaning, Doctor.” she sneered.

“The Scottish soldier. The one no one could find a name on. You knew his name!” I accused crossing my arms. “Why didn’t you tell anyone the man’s name! We could have gotten hold of his family sooner, been able to do more for him with the proper infor-”

“Because ye didn’t ask!” she interrupted, her voice shrill and harsh.

Nurse MacKenzie’s chest was heaving and her hands were clenching in and out of fists. “I’ve known James Fraser my whole life and I’d know the look of him anywhere. The stupid Yank kept me away from his case, away from my lo— away from him. So I kept something from all of you.”

I jerked as if I’d been slapped from her words. “You kept his identity a secret because Doctor Abernathy wouldn’t let you work on the case?”

She nodded, hands now in fists on her hips.

“The Yank said it was against the oath for me to be assigned to him. The asshole; he kept me away from him to make sure Jamie never saw me! I know he was deliberately making sure I couldn’t be there for him!” Her face flushed with anger.

“You love him,” I stated. The nurse nodded curtly. “That’s why Doctor Abernathy wouldn’t let you be on Mr. Fraser’s case. There’s a reason why we don’t allow someone to work on family and friends. You're too involved.”

She sniffed and stuck her nose up in the air, unsatisfied with my answer. “Doctor Abernathy is an arsehole who can’t see in front of his nose! Oh, I’m banned from seeing my love, but you!” She began to quake in anger. “You, he throws at him! ‘Poor Doctor Beauchamp, old and no one loves her. I know, let’s set her up with the unconscious, hot Scottish patient. That'll cheer her and her loneliness right up!’”

I took a step back. I felt as though I had just been slapped. “How dare you!” I angrily whispered. “How dare you insult Doctor Abernathy and myself this way! Who are you to judge the character of a person you don’t know?”

“I know enough to know that you are a lonely bitch who can’t be loved. We’ve all noticed how you pine away for something you obviously will never have. It’s pathetic! You were doe-eyed and smitten with a man you didn’t know. You think people wouldn’t notice you always going in my Jamie’s room every chance you got?” She snorted with mirth. “That’ll be the only way you’ll get a man to bed. When he’s sodding drunk and unconscious so he doesn’t have to look at your appalling face!”

My hand tingled and burned.

I had slapped her.

I slapped Nurse MacKenzie right across the cheek. A slap that was so hard that it made her head turn from the force. Tears welled in her eyes, a bright pink mark marred her face.

“You know nothing about me. Do not pretend to know me or think you can judge me.” I was seething. The rush of anger flooded my veins and I could feel my blood pressure rise along with the color that was sure to be staining my skin from chest to ears.

Nurse MacKenzie smirked. “You’ll be fired now, stupid bitch.”

Clutching her cheek, Nurse MacKenzie strode down the hallway, her back straight and head held high. I was going to regret slapping her, but for now I felt the self-satisfaction overwhelm me.

Joe found me still standing in the hall staring aimlessly where Nurse MacKenzie had just been, my fists balled, and jaw clenched. When his hand touched my shoulder, I jumped, prepared to fight again, but relaxed when Joe’s presence registered.

“What are you doing out here, LJ? No patients for you to check on?” He had been joking, but the statement sent a ball of lead plummeting to my gut.

“I had been looking for you, then became distracted. James Fraser, our Scottish Soldier, is awake.” Joe’s face beamed back at me.

“Well what are we waiting for! Let’s go check on the man and you can tell me what had you so...distracted.” He quirked an eyebrow at me while smirking. There was no use in denying what transpired. I’m sure the security team got an eyeful from the cameras.

I stopped Joe when we reached Jamie’s door. “Before we go in, you need to know something.”

He nodded, motioning to continue.

“Nurse MacKenzie knew our soldier’s name and withheld the information. She claimed that you were keeping them apart--well not quite that nicely, she did have some colourful words for you,” _And me_ , I added mentally. “She was my distraction. There’s more to my story, but I believe the heads of the departments need to be present and a trip to the security room to show the tapes of the event. I’m not proud, but I ended up striking her.”

“This isn’t good, LJ,” Joe stated quietly. “They could suspend you for that.”

I nodded solemnly.

“But I’ll try my damnedest to help you get everything sorted out.” I smiled weakly at him and nodded.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Think nothing of it. Now let’s see how Mr. Fraser is doing, yes?”


	8. Chapter 8 | Of Trials....

Laoghaire sat at the conference table proudly, arms crossed and a smirk planted on her face, her face still glowed red with a clearly defined handprint, but not from my slap. The print was on the wrong cheek. Either someone else took a swing at her, or she’s fabricated the mark to make my assault appear greater than it was. I was the one who was attacked more viciously than she.

I had to shake the feeling of vitriol from my mind. If I wanted to come out of this relatively unscathed, I needed to keep my calm. When I sat down, a hand covered my own. Joe was sitting beside me, ready to risk his own reputation for my own. I couldn’t help the feeling of relief that washed over me.

“Doctor Claire E. Beauchamp,” The portly, rodent-faced man sneered in greeting. “You’ve been called in for a disciplinary hearing due to the violent altercation that happened at approximately 17:00 yesterday evening with a one Nurse Laoghaire G. MacKenzie. Nurse MacKenzie has provided a fully detailed account of the altercation. During said alteration she has documented and show physical proof of you striking her person hard enough to leave marks to last nearly twenty-four hours and that you defamed her reputation by calling her a series of derogatory slurs, most of which were aimed directly at her nationality as Scottish. Do you deny these allegations and proof of the strike?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but was cut off by none other than Laoghaire herself. “Of course she’ll bloody deny the allegations! She’s only out for everything to further herself. How else would a 27 year old become a surgeon? Why would she get to tend to one of the most famous patients in the hospital if not for her sleeping her way through the ranks to get a better assignment?” Laoghaire stared down each of the five board members present. “You know she was also seen entering Captain James A.M. Fraser’s room while he was unconscious. What other reason that to pleasure herself or to assault the man would she have to going in there when she’s not needed?”

The board members eyebrows simultaneously rose in shock. My cheeks flamed. I had gone in there. For the solitude, and because he brought a sense of peace to me. I could talk to my Scot unlike anyone else. I would read to him, or simply talk to him. Even though he couldn’t hear or respond to me, I still felt at ease and safe with him. When I spoke occasionally he would twitch or move, teasing me into believing he was about to wake, or if I lightly touched his skin a small smile would crease lips. I never inappropriately touched the man, nor would I have belittled him by pleasuring myself in his room to his unconscious form!

“Members of the board,” I spoke with clarity and strength over Laoghaire’s next rant. “I do deny the allegations that are being laid upon me, as well as the new information that Nurse MacKenzie has just said. I deny ever calling her anything derogatory especially towards her nationality. I also deny having hit her hard enough that there is still a mark on her face. What I will not deny, is that I did indeed strike Nurse MacKenzie.”

The rodent-faced man smirked, and he began to open his mouth, I held up a hand. “Please let me continue.”

The woman to the rodent-faced man’s side nodded.

Taking a steadying breath, I continued. “I struck Nurse MacKenzie on the other cheek, not the one that is currently glowing a bright red as though she had only just been struck. The reason I did so is unacceptable, and I do understand that, I lost my temper. Nurse MacKenzie had taken it upon herself to say multiple vicious and derogatory racial slurs against Doctor Joseph Abernathy, whom I consider a mentor and friend in this establishment. She also spoke against my own character and bullied my own circumstances. The strike was made after no less than ten minutes of constant belittlement.

“Another reason Nurse MacKenzie pushed my temper beyond it’s limits was that she withheld vital information on a patient that I was assigned. The same Captain James. A.M. Fraser, whom for the past month, we have been calling the Scottish Soldier. We had anyone who may recognize him to speak up, we also sent off blood tests and photographs to the military to help us identify this man. Only yesterday did we discover that his name is, in fact, James Fraser. His sister, a Mrs. Jenny Murray, visited and informed us of his true identity.

“Yesterday I confronted Nurse MacKenzie and asked why she did not reveal who the young man was so that we may have contacted his family sooner, and her response was, to quote her directly, ‘I’ve known James Fraser my whole life and I’d know the look of him anywhere. The stupid Yank kept me away from his case, away from my lo-- away from him. So I kept something from all of you.’”

I turned to Laoghaire, her face had gone white in either shock or rage.

“You can’t prove anything!” She hissed through her teeth.

Joe cleared his throat, “Actually Nurse MacKenzie, she can. Ladies and gentlemen of the board,” he addressed turning to look at them, then slowly stood. “If you would please follow me to the security room I would like to show you some very enlightening tapes.”


	9. Chapter 9 | ....and Tribulations

The security team was all too happy and eager to pull the tapes needed at Joe’s request.

“If you would please observe the queued tape that has audio and visual of yesterday’s altercation between Nurse MacKenzie and Doctor Beauchamp.”

The board members crowded around the screen as the tape played. It was muffled, but it was there. You could see me leave Captain Fraser’s room and call out, cordially, to Nurse MacKenzie. The entire conversation was clearly heard as well as the resounding slap of skin meeting skin when I had had enough. Laoghaire’s threat and smirk were also seen and heard.

The gray haired woman turned back to face me. “I see that Nurse MacKenzie’s recollection of the event was skewed even more than initially believed. Tell me Nurse, why is it that the slap Doctor Beauchamp bestowed was on your left cheek and yet today your right cheek is brightly decorated with a handprint? Is there another hospital employee being abusive towards you or are you just lying to see a talented Doctor’s career ended in a single go?”

Laoghaire’s face scrunched up in rage, she turned and began to hit me repeatedly while screaming, “You dumb bitch! You always get your way! You never have to live the hardships the rest of us have! Why don’t you and your unlovable carcass just die!”

Joe and all but one of the male board members pulled Laoghaire off of me, only the rodent-faced man stood off in the corner watching everyone else do the work. My lip was swollen and I could feel my eye begin to puff up from the blow she landed to it.

“Ah, self defense now is it?” The rodent-faced man said. “I see no harm in what she just did, what do you think?” He asked open-ended completely serious and not in the least bit mocking.

I gaped at him. Joe snorted in anger, “If you think that blatant attack was self-defense--a defense I may add that isn’t necessary--I’m curious to find out what you’ll think of the following videos I have for you to view?”

“Other videos?” The dark-haired board member panted, as he still struggled to contain Laoghaire.

“Yes, Mr. Buckhannan. Other vidoes. Marcus, could you please play the videos we discussed this morning?”

“Of course, Doctor Abernathy!” The skinny old man exclaimed, his white tufts of hair bobbing with his words.

On screen the date read from the first night we had Captain Fraser in our care. Laoghaire in street clothes snuck into his after visiting hours, leaving his door wide open. We couldn’t see in but we could hear her. We heard her moaning and eventually scream, thirty minutes later she would leave the room face flushed and shirt buttons askew. For three weeks this had happened.

“Where was the tech or nurse who was supposed to check on this man?” The dark-haired man exclaimed.

“On the nights Nurse MacKenzie snuck into Captain Fraser’s room it was always the same man. Joseph Murray.” Joe said. “I looked at the schedules and logs myself and I have them printed out for you. Marcus?”

The old man grabbed a file folder handing Mr. Buckhannan the paperwork in question.

“How did you come by all of this so fast, Doctor Abernathy?” The rodent-faced man said with a smirk. “You don’t expect us to believe that you just suddenly had all of this compiled to try and frame poor Nurse MacKenzie and get the wrong person off scott free?”

Joe smiled and shook his head. “Of course not, Mr. Dowell, I’ve been compiling this and other videos for more than a year.”

“HA! We haven’t had Mr. Fraser for over a year, you are lying and we can have you fired and deported back to the states!” Mr. Dowell cried in triumph.

“I have filed numerous complaints Mr. Dowell and you have refused to hold a hearing for the inappropriate behavior of one Nurse Laoghaire G. MacKenzie and Tech Joseph B. Murray. However, Nurse MacKenzie files a complaint and in less than twenty-four hours a full hearing has been issued against Doctor Claire Beauchamp? Please tell me how that works, sir?”

Marcus’s voice was timid, “Ah, Mr. Abernathy--I mean Doctor Abernathy, sir? Do you want me to play the OR tapes?”

Joe simply nodded. Mr. Buckhannan looked to the screen first and quickly turned away as the image and sounds of Nurse MacKenzie and Tech Joseph Murray fully engaged in intercourse filled the room.

“How many other tapes are there, Mr. Marcus?”

The old man smiled, “Mister! Oh my word sir I’ve never been so formally addressed, but to answer your inquiry I have over one-hundred thirty-two so far.”

“So far?”

“Aye sir, over one-hundred thirty-two so far this year. That’s what Mr. Abernathy and I have been compiling for a hearing, but no one has let us come forward.”

Mr. Dowell’s face blanched.

“Nurse MacKenzie, please turn in your badge. Another formal hearing will take place for what measures we will be taking against you.” The gray-haired woman said.

“As for you Doctor Beauchamp. Probation. No surgeries unless it’s with a currently assigned patient for six weeks. You are not to take overtime or extra shifts unless your direct supervisor is there. You will not be allowed to take on new patients until the six weeks is up. If you are called in to an emergency you must have a senior surgeon with you at all times.”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”


	10. Chapter 10 | Running

Two-weeks following the hearing and altercation, Nurse MacKenzie lost her license to practice and board member Mr. R.M. Dowell had been dismissed. After a short look into Mr. Dowell’s affairs as to why not only Joe’s requests, but most of the second and third year attending residents requests were ignored, found a torrid affair that he had with Laoghaire MacKenzie. The two had been caught on tape in the OR on the days Laoghaire wasn’t having sex with Joseph Murray in the OR. Mr. Dowell was forcibly resigned with the biggest scandal following him and the former Nurse MacKenzie out the door.

With the scandal, Captain Fraser and his family also got to add in their sides of the incident and made it to where Laoghaire MacKenzie would never be able to practice medicine again. On top of the sex tapes, multiple patients had come forward with their own tales of the inappropriate comments and touches from Nurse MacKenzie causing them to feel dirty and violated in a place where they should feel safe. She may have been fired but the long lasting effects from Nurse MacKenzies actions was already taking their toll. I was not immune to this current but I wished I was.

My heart hurt. I didn’t feel as though I belonged or that I could find love. The words of hatred Laoghaire MacKenzie spewed at me had sunk deep into the recesses of my mind and being. Hearing the words hurt, but what hurt worst of all was knowing she was right. I was unlovable. Time and again that had been proven to me by failed relationship after horribly failed relationship. I couldn’t block the thoughts of unworthiness that had now etched a never-ending course through my brain. My favorite books were now torture devices that mocked my pain with their tales of love and happiness.

Groaning in anger, I tossed my eBook reader onto the floor, not able to take another second of the epic romance in front of me. Reading about the not so perfect relationship, but ultimate love of my favorite characters was burning inside me, and not in the usual pleasurable way. Each of their touches, sighs, exclamations of love, and their consuming sex scenes made me want to scream.

Why couldn’t I find love? What was so wrong with me that I was treated like I didn’t exist or that my desires weren’t real? Were all men self-centered pricks and the men I read about in books just a fantasy of one pining woman to another?

I couldn’t answer any question with any kind of certainty when it came to love and my love life. However, deep down, my gut told me I was destined to be alone while my heart whispered don’t give up hope.

The urge to run, to be free, to escape from everything consumed me. That appeared to be the more logical solution, rather than the desire to cause destruction to anything in my path.

I ran.

I ran until my lungs burned, teeth ached from cold, and my shins felt like they were bricks attached to my feet. I looked at my phone and sighed, I had only gone half a mile and was ready to turn around and call it quits. Just like everything else, quit and be the unlovable loser you’re known to be. My thoughts reminded me, pushing me to the point of tears. I fought with myself and kept going down the path instead of turning back, this time I let the tears flow and my mind to wander.

My thoughts didn’t drift back to Laoghaire’s evil words, the trial or the fact that my job was in jeopardy for another three weeks. No, my thoughts drifted to a certain redheaded Scot and how much I wished I knew more about him. A fantasy began to form, innocent enough to start. Images of him talking, laughing, and being by my side. The shine of mischief creeping in his blue eyes, or the height of him dwarfing me, enclosing me into a shadow of safety morphed into something more. Something sexual.

I forgot about my aching lungs and legs, and felt warmth pooling in the pit of my stomach imagining the grunts and groans he’d make when seeking pleasure, the feel of his skin against my palms, the bruising kisses he’d leave in his desire filled haze. I could feel him moving on top of me, around me, and in me. My body flushed with heat and the ache to be closer to him and pain?

My lust-filled vision abated as I took in my surroundings for seemingly the first time since that first half mile. I was on the ground, hands bleeding, joggers ripped and tinged with blood, the toes on my left foot aching.

I had fallen and not just in the literal way. My heart belonged to a man I didn’t know but felt as though I did. Guilt seeped through me like ice.

I’m no better than the whore and documented pervert, Laoghaire MacKenzie.


	11. Chapter 11 | False Assumptions

I winced and hobbled down the corridors of the hospital cursing my clumsiness. My runs had become a daily routine, and with it came a daily tumble onto the pavement. My knees and hands were more scabs and blood than skin. Performing daily tasks without bleeding had become a chore. 

“Doctor Beauchamp!” Nurse Fitzgibbons called, preceding the sound of her quick footsteps. I snorted; she didn’t need to walk to fast to catch me. My pace could be compared to that of a sloth. 

“Hello, Nurse Fitz.” I smiled at her; she glared and shook her head. 

“What have I told ye? It’s Glenna to you! Or Nurse Glenna if ye want to be formal.” Her scowl turned into concern as she took in my hunched, favoring the left, posture. I’m sure I looked like the bloody hunchback of Notre Dame. 

“My dear, whatever happened to ye?” She lifted up my hand inspecting the old and new cuts, then searched from my face all the way down to my toes. She clucked her tongue as though she could see under my scrubs. “Did a man do this to ye?” Her tone was deadly. 

I shook my head and croaked out a no. She quirked an eyebrow, hooked her hand around my bicep and marched me into an empty room. 

“Off,” she said impatiently, tapping her foot. 

“Nurse Fitz, really, a man didn’t do this to me! I—”

Shaking her head, she glared at my offending scrubs. “Take them off my dear or I’ll do it myself.” 

My eyes went wide and I slowly pulled off my scrubs, wincing when I brushed against a fresh injury. I stood before her in nothing but my undergarments, my skin a mottled mix of healing and fresh contusions. Slowly, she approached me, examining first with her eyes then gently prodding at or around the collection of injuries. 

A hiss went out of her when she saw my shoulder and hips. The scratches a bright red and white surrounded by the deeper red, nearly purple hues of bruising. 

“Who was it that did this to ye?”

“No one Glenna, I promise.” I used her name and rested my hand on her shoulder to ease her fears. “If anyone is to blame for these injuries, it’s myself.” 

At this she jerked back. “Och! Of course ye blame yerself. The bastard! Ye need not protect the scum! Tell me who did this and I’ll see them straight to the depths of hell myself!”

Nurse Fitz’s chest was heaving, her face flushing puce, and her hands shook at her sides. 

“Stay in here!” she yelled, then muttering to herself about no good bastards and where they belong, slammed the door behind her. 

“Well this is just silly!” I huffed to myself. I waited five minutes before deciding to put my scrubs back on to get back to work. I’d wasted enough time indulging Nurse Fitz. 

Gathering my things, I eased out of the room, hoping not to run into anyone. 

“Just where do you think you’re going?” 

My heart sank as I winced at the overbearing Nurse’s voice. I turned slowly to face her. 

“I’m going back to work to complete my rounds?” It came out more as a question than a statement. Nurse Fitz shook her head and pointed at the door. 

“I’ve brought supplies to properly treat your injuries. Doctor Abernathy and Chief Monroe will be here shortly. I’ll not let someone hurting you be swept under the rug! You’re too good of a doctor and a person to let someone hit you!” 

My heart swelled with the love this woman was showing me. She was determined to bring the guilty party to justice, even when it was my own fault.

I let her guide me back into the exam room and without being asked, disrobed. Nurse Fitz began to thoroughly clean each wound, eliciting a hiss from me on the fresher ones. 

A rhythmic knock sounded at the door. Nurse Fitz pushed me out of view before cracking the door to see who was there, then quickly ushered in Joe and the chief. I felt myself begin to blush and had never felt so exposed. Only in my bra and knickers, I felt as though the ground should swallow me up. My boss and his superior were inspecting my wounds, clinical expressions on both of their faces, but nothing helped calm my nerves. I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if these were abuse marks and not those of someone who just shouldn’t be allowed to run. 

“Claire?” Joe’s face was full of concern as he studied my face. “Did these happen because of the hearing?”

I shook my head vehemently. “No Joe. These weren’t done by anyone.” I looked around the room and everyone looked on in disbelief. 

“Some of these bruises, Claire, they’re not recent. They are at least —,”

“A week old,” we said at the same time. 

“Yeah, I know. I took up running about a week ago,” I mumbled to the ground. 

“I promise you this, these are not the marks of an abuser, just the marks of a very clumsy girl. I trip over uneven bricks, pebbles, tree roots on the path, my own feet….” I trailed off as Chief Monroe leveled his gaze to my knees and nodded. 

“The cuts are consistent with that of a fall, but some of these bruises,” he pointed to my hip and shoulder. “These do not look like you simply fell.” 

He exchanged a look with Joe and they both nodded. “If you would like to speak with someone, we have some of the best psychologists here. You can go to any of them, at your leisure, with no fee. The stress you’ve been under this last month has been greater than that of the typical surgeon. If something at home has also become a stressor, please talk with someone. We’ll be here to help you.” 

I faked a smile and nodded. Joe and the chief quietly left the room as Nurse Fitz continued to complete her treatment on me. 

“I still say you should tell us who the bastard is that did this to you. I’m not fully convinced this was all done from being clumsy!” she tittered while gauzing one knee, then the other. 

I looked up praying for this day to be over. As my eyes rose away from Nurse Fitz, I noticed that the door wasn’t shut but wide open and, standing with a cane and drip bag just outside my door, was my Scot.


	12. Chapter 12 | Angel

My father once said that the moment I met the person I was meant to be with, I’d ken it in a heartbeat.

He was right.

My heart and mind recognized her before I was even fully aware of it myself. The first month after the explosion I had dreams of an angel. She had the sweet voice of a Sassenach and the kindest touch. Whenever the pain began to overwhelm me, her voice and touch cut through the agony, replacing it with it peace.

She had spoken to me for countless hours, it seemed, in my haze. She read stories, the news, or just spoke her mind and the wish for me to open my eyes.

_“Findings! You make him sounds like some sort of experiment!”_ A shrill voice had filtered in. That hadn’t been my angel, but I recognized it. Jenny. I furrowed my brow, light and pain began to seep into my consciousness and the dreams became more fuzzy by the second as the beeping of machines and the voice of my angel spoke.

_“Can you tell me his name?”_

I was even more confused by her statement. She knew my name, didn’t she? My angel had to know. I wanted to scream out to her, but nothing came. I needed to see; I needed to get my angel’s attention and let her know. She needed to know me.

I had opened my eyes and seen the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. The hazy vision of my angel solidified and I finally had features clearly drawn: riotous curly hair, milky skin, and eyes the color of the finest Scotch.

“Mo chridhe,” I had whispered, my voice scratchy and hoarse. Neither my sister or my angel had heard me.

When they did notice me, my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. My angel— Jenny had called her Dr. Beauchamp—gently touched my arm and my skin burned from her touch.

And just as soon as I had a chance to drink her in, she was gone, leaving me alone with my sister. She sobbed and hugged me. Between her sobs, Jenny fretted over me, not leaving me for a moment. It was smothering. I had never seen her this way before. Maybe it was the thought of losing me so shortly after Da and Willie or her ever growing pregnancy messing with her mind, but I didn’t care. It was nice to be surrounded by love and warmth instead of the cold hard fear that had been my constant state for the last four years.

“Who was she?” I croaked when Jenny had finally calmed down.

“Who was who, mo brathair?” She gave me a quizzical look, and rubbed her belly. “Surely ye’ve not already forgotten Doctor Beauchamp, who has been verra dedicated and skilled despite her age?”

I shook my head, feeling myself go dizzy with the movement. “No, not her. I ken fine who the angel is, but the demon. I dinna ken who she is. Can ye tell me, sister? Who was the demon who tortured me when the angel wasna near?”

My voice verged on hysterical, if it wasn’t already there. From the alarmed look on Jenny’s face, I had scared her. She opened her mouth to speak before we heard a loud slam of a door and screaming. I felt what little color was sure to be in my face, drain instantly. The demon was screeching, and at my angel.

_“I’ve known James Fraser my whole life and I’d know the look of him anywhere.”_ The words from the demon floated through the sturdy wood of the door and down my spine like ice. How could she have known me her whole life?

“Jenny?” I began to shake with some foreign emotion that I couldn’t put a name to. We then heard a loud *crack* and the stomping of feet. Five minutes later, my angel and another doctor walked into the room, a smile on his face.

“Welcome back Mr. Fraser! Doctor Beauchamp has told me we finally have an identity for you, and perfect timing with your sudden consciousness. So can you tell me how you’re feeling? Please do not leave anything out. We want to get you back to your best state of being as quickly as we can.”

The conversation flowed and I can’t recall a moment of it. I was too busy stealing glances at the red flushed face of my angel who kept quiet in the corner of my room, and never once approached my bed.

That behavior became her normal towards me unless she had to inspect something under a bandage. The same, kind doctor accompanied her--I really need to remember his name--each round, but she never spoke to me. Her smile did not reach the corner of her lips let alone her eyes, and gradually she began walking with a limp.

My angel avoided my room now. I could feel the depression setting in; I was being abandoned by the angel. The angel whose voice still called to me at night and in my daydreaming states. The voice that gave me hope, now gone.

I grabbed my cane and shoved the IV contraption out the door, then hobbled my way down the corridor in an aimless fashion. My mind so preoccupied by what I might have done to keep her away, and what I could do to get her back, that I nearly missed an argument and a plea. The kind doctor and one I’d never met before strode from a room, the door bouncing off the hinge and slowly swung back open.

“I still say you should tell us who the bastard is that did this to you. I’m not fully convinced this was all done from being clumsy!” the nurse who reminded me of an aunt said exasperatedly, while wrapping a patient's knee. I saw the healed scrapes and gouges, the purple, blue and green mottled bruising that went from shin and above.

My mouth fell open as I took in all of the injuries this woman had endured. My blood pressure rose as I saw more bruising up her arms and shoulders. What kind of person would harm another like this? Was it her boyfriend? Husband? Girlfriend? Or someone she had an unfortunate encounter with? Situation after situation crossed my mind, and then my blood simultaneously boiled and drained from my body. Sitting on the bench was not just a patient, but my angel. My angel bruised and hurt. Is this why she started avoiding me? Did someone tell her to stop?

I took a step towards her room and she averted her eyes, a blush creeping up her neck.

“All done Claire.” The nurse patted Claire’s leg and handed her her clothes. “Now I don’t want to see you—oh! Hello my dear, have you gotten lost? Do you need assistance getting back to your room?” She addressed me. I shook my head, my eyes not leaving _Claire_.

“Claire, my angel, who hurt you? What has happened? Please tell me.” I hobbled my way close enough to her to hold my hand out to hover over hers. I saw a tear slide down her cheek and my composure was lost.

“Angel! A Dhia! Please mo nighean donn, tell me who did this. I’ll protect you. I swear it. I’ll protect you.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry Mr. Fraser, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Shock flooded through me. Couldn’t understand me? Had I lost the ability to speak?

“Could you try English? I caught a little of what you said. I believe that was Gaelic? You said ‘Oh God!’ why? What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Is it your hand?”

She jumped off the table, still in naught but her undergarments, and pulled my lightly bandaged hand to her, inspecting it thoroughly. I looked to the nurse who gave me a knowing smile and a wink.

“Claire, the lad is fine. He asked who hurt you.”

My angel shook her head harder. “I told you before Glenna, no one hurt me! I did this to myself running. It wasn’t intentional I swear.” She looked to me then back to Nurse Glenna. “I’m just, clumsy when running these hills and trails. I’ll be fine. Thank you for patching me up.”

“Weel I’d feel better if you took the chief up on his offer to see a psychologist and work through why you feel the need to injure yourself if no one did it to ye.” She headed to the door and before pulling it shut, said to me, “Ye’ll need leave now, Mr. Fraser. Doctor Beauchamp can walk ye back to your room and ye can interrogate her then. Maybe she’ll be more keen to talk to you.”  
With a wink she was gone.

Claire had already pulled her scrubs back on and was reaching for her coat when I grabbed her hand, stopping her. She looked me in the eye, and I brushed a curl away from her face. The tension was palpable. And my only thought was, _‘Would she let me?’_


	13. Chapter 13 | Overwhelming Emotions

**_He was going to kiss me._ **

I could see it in his eyes, lust, passion, desire… it was all there everything I had been aching for, been yearning for was right there.

“Stop.” I whispered gently laying my hand on his chest. I could feel his rapid breathing and thundering heartbeat under my palm. My eyes transfixed on my hand, refusing to see the hurt that was sure to be in his eyes.

“Alright. I’ll wait.” Came his breathy, hoarse whisper. His voice so deep it sent chills down my spine.

I chanced a glance at this face, surely he was joking. He had to be angry, I just denied him… they always get angry when denied.

“Really?” I asked in amazement, not seeing any anger but still the same passion and desire. He intertwined my hand with his, laying it back against his chest while pulling me forward. The backs of our hands touching the other’s heart.

A quirk of his lips pulled them into a side smile. “Aye, I’ll wait for ye Claire. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Ye ken I’ll no be your patient forever, and when that day comes,” he bent down kissing my hand. “I’ll be here a dozen flowers in my hand, and walking on my own two feet asking ye to be mine.”

My cheeks filled with color as his statement sunk in.

“Come on, you shouldn’t be out of your bed for too long. You’re going to drive the nurses into a tizzy.” I tried to diffuse the current mood, the sexual tension was thick in the air, my own mind questioning why I wasn’t following my gut and letting him kiss me.

“Aye, suppose ye are right.” Jamie nodded, then began to hobble back out the door.

I let out a breathing looking at the ceiling. “You’re a bloody fool Beauchamp.”

We were silent on the walk back to his room. What should have been a short walk, turned into a laborious adventure for both of us. Neither fully healed, hobbling and shaking down the hall, unable to move quick enough out of the random running personnel.

“ _M'aingeal, bidh thu leig dhomh gaol agam ort_?” Jamie whispered pushing a lock of my hair behind my ear as we stood outside his door.

I started to shake my head, words fumbling. “I-I don’t know what you said!”

Jamie only smiled and kept his hand on the side of my face. “Dinna fash yerself over it. Good night, Doctor Beauchamp.”

Gone was his playful and desire-filled tone, in it’s place was the quiet reluctance of professionalism.

“Good night, Jamie.” I managed to say just as the door clicked shut.

The hall felt too large, yet too small simultaneously. I couldn’t breathe.

My heart ached and my head warred with my thoughts.

He was perfect. He was a patient. He wanted me. No one ever wants me. He makes me feel different, worthy. No one will ever accept me.

Over and over, the cycle of confidence and doubt turned over until I couldn’t take it any longer. Still in scrubs I ran from the hospital. My bag, keys, phone, everything still locked safely away in my locker. Legs burning, hip screaming in pain, I pushed on. I felt the bandages Mrs. Fitz so carefully attached begin to slip from my legs. The scabs on my knees begin to crack and bleed once again, but it didn’t matter. I needed air. I needed to be able to breathe.

Tears blurring my vision, I stumbled and caught myself before falling onto the pavement making my way to a bench at the edge of the block.

All the emotions I had been fighting for weeks came to the surface, no longer were tears only clouding my vision, now they ran freely in unending streams down my face. Why was he so nice to me? How could he want to kiss me and why did I want to kiss him back?

I don’t know how long I sat on that bench two blocks from the hospital. My body chilled as rain drizzled down.

“Claire?” A voice called, I didn’t look in it’s direction.

“Claire!” Warm hands gripped my shoulders, slightly shaking me. “What are you doing out here? Where’s your coat? Jesus! You’re freezing!”

Joe Abernathy pulled me from my spot on the bench, my mind and body still numb. Speech not coming easily.

“You need to get back inside, when Marcus told me he saw you running out of the building like a bat outta hell I had to come look for you! What has gotten into you?”

I shook my head, a frown pulling deeper on my face. “I can’t go back. I’ve broken the rules. He can’t.. I can’t… please don’t make me. I don’t have the will to stay away. I can’t lose this job. I can’t lose him. Please Joe… I…”

I rambled and sobbed as Joe pulled his coat tighter around me, throwing his arm around my shoulders then guided me back to the hospital.

“Who are you trying to run away from? Is it the man that hurt you? I’m still not convinced it was as you said, and just a running accident.”

I shook my head at his words. “No one hurt me! I did this to myself, granted not intentionally, but I did not get beat! I wish people would stop assuming that!”

“That was the most coherent sentence I’ve gotten from you all day.” He laughed jovially, squeezing my shoulder. I snorted.

“I can’t lose my job Joe, but I can’t be around Ja--Mr. Fraser.” I stopped walking and turned to look at Joe’s face. “I’ll break every vow I’ve ever made as a physician if I continue to be one of his primary care doctors. I can’t do it. It’s become...personal. He means too much to me and I can’t lose him, but I can’t lose this job either.”

Joe smiled and nodded with a sigh, “I figured this would happen. You’re all the man talks about when I go to see him. Keeps calling you _m'aingeal_ , and I can’t get anyone in this damned place to tell me what it means. They simply smile and have a lovesick look on their faces so I’m going to guess it’s an endearment.”

I felt my chin wobble with the tears that were threatening to fall from my eyes.

“He—” I cleared my throat, “he’s called me that before. Right before I ran out of the hospital actually.”

Joe smiled jovially. “Ha! See! You won’t be losing that boy, I can guarantee that! Now, come on. You need to get dry and warm. I’ll make sure, if it’s the last thing I do that you will not only keep your job, but you will get to keep your...unprofessional relationship with the young Mr. Fraser.” He winked and pulled me back inside. Back to the warmth, pain, brutal politics, sadness, and overwhelming joy that will hopefully shape my future for the better.


End file.
